by Paul Aertker
MORE PRAISE FOR CRIME TRAVELERS
Reviews from literary magazines, newspapers, and publishing periodicals are merged here with reviews from parents, teachers, and kids to give each comment equal weight.
“Hilarious . . . An endlessly clever action-adventure.”
“An exhilarating ride . . . a welcome addition to any library.”
“Perfectly-sized chapters serve as success points for the middle grade reader.”
“If you liked the Alex Rider series and are looking for something in the same vein, Crime Travelers is for you!”
“Kids who love spy action adventure stories will love this series.”
“This story is like a 3-D movie in your head that keeps popping out every moment.”
“As a middle school educator, I particularly appreciate how math helps Lucas and his team escape danger at every corner.”
“Kids from ten on up should relish its campy flavor of excitement and thrills.”
“Perfect for preteens and early teens who envision days of action and excitement.”
“This was an excellent book, comparable to the likes of Alex Rider and The Hunger Games. The author fully enthralls the reader with a well-written book, satisfying to any spy-novel fan. I would recommend it for ages ten to fourteen.”
“Reads like a movie script.”
“It’s good, clean fun.”
More reviews online.
CRIME TRAVELERS
BOOK 2
DIAMONDS ARE FOR NEVER
A LUCAS BENES NOVEL
PAUL AERTKER
FLYING SOLO PRESS | ROME
Crime Travelers—Book Two: Diamonds Are For Never© 2015 by Paul Aertker All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. No reproduction without prior permission. Discounts available at www.crimetravelers.com.
Library Meta Data
Aertker, Paul
Crime Travelers / Paul Aertker.— First ed.
p. 256 cm. 12.7 x 20.32 (5x8 in) — (Diamonds Are For Never ; bk. 2)
Summary: After sabotaging a mass kidnapping in Paris, Lucas Benes faces a new and perilous threat from Siba Günerro and her anything-but-good Good Company.
When a briefcase-toting kid from the Falkland Islands joins the New Resistance, Lucas learns the truth about his mother and becomes a boy on a mission.
Lucas and friends speed in and around Rome—from the Colosseum to the Vatican—until they stow away on a cargo ship carrying diamonds that could unlock the secret to Lucas’s past and destroy the Good Company’s future.
In this action-packed second installment of the Crime Travelers series, author Paul Aertker takes readers on a gripping world tour filled with adrenaline, humor, and pure excitement.© 2015, FSP
1. Travel—Fiction. 2. Language and languages—Fiction.
3. Conspiracies— Fiction. 4. Cargo Ships—Fiction. 5. Diamonds—Fiction.
6. Geography— Fiction. 7. Multicultural—Fiction. 8. Europe—Fiction.
9. Rome, Italy—Fiction.
I. Title. Pro 2015
Edited by Brian Luster using the Chicago Manual of Style, 16th edition
| Cover Design by Pintado | Maps by Paul Devine | Interior Design by Amy McKnight | All designs, maps, graphics, photographs © 2015 Paul Aertker and
Flying Solo Press, LLC
ISBN 978-1-940137-25-4 / eISBN 978-1-940137-26-1
Diamonds Are For Never | Printed worldwide
Library of Congress Control Number: 2015903582
To Larry Yoder
Thanks for believing in me and my books.
CONTENTS
1 Antarctica
2 Money Can Buy The Best Friends
3 A Strange Flash Of Cold
4 A Body In Motion
5 Let’s Make A Deal
6 An Unwelcome Guest
7 The Birth File
8 Roomies
9 Code
10 Doughnuts
11 A Mother Is A Mother Is A Mother
12 The Plan
13 Miles Of Files
14 The Hotel Bill
15 Message In A Car
16 Are You My Mother?
17 When You Know, You Know
18 Under Your Nose
19 The Writing Is On The Desk
20 Locksmith
21 Time To Check Out
22 Uber
23 It’s Time
24 Emergency Meeting
25 The Legend Must Be True
26 Map vs. App
27 Interpol
28 Passaporto
29 Glad To Be Gladiators
30 All Roads Lead To Rome
31 Gladiator School?
32 When In Rome
33 A Storm Brewing
34 All Aboard
35 Like Mother Like Son
36 PHI
37 The Sea At Night
38 Unbreakable
39 Camping Out
40 Clink. Clink. Clink
41 Rough Seas
42 Survival Of The Most Adaptable
43 If You Can’t Beat ’Em
44 A French Connection
45 Expect The Unexpected
46 Work As A Team
47 Enter Ms. Günerro
48 The Opposite Of The Opposite
49 Bye-Bye PHI
50 Home Is Where The Hotel Is
Your past doesn’t have to define your future.
ANTARCTICA
With a pair of cat-eye goggles stretched across her eyes, Ms. Siba Günerro looked out over the bow of her ship.
The president and CEO of the Good Company gripped the railing as the largest vessel in the Good Company fleet, the Lollipop, sliced through the icy waters off Tierra del Fuego. The boat powered through the Bay of Good Success and rounded the tip of South America.
Seagulls squawked in the haze as they trailed the ship into international waters. Some four hundred nautical miles north of the tail of Antarctica the fog thinned, exposing small slabs of snowy floe that drifted like tiny white islands.
Dead ahead, a rogue iceberg bobbed its massive crown over the horizon. The glacial mass was so big that it looked like a section of Manhattan frozen over, with skyscrapers made of ice.
As they approached the floating mountain, the captain turned the ship to avoid the hidden underside of the berg. A rumbling sound beat across the wide expanse of water. From behind the snow-white walls a matte-black Sikorsky helicopter thundered into view.
Shards of sleet swirled in a cone as the helicopter rose above the iceberg. The Sikorsky banked in a wide curve through the mist. Penguins, by the thousands, whistled as they slid from the ice into the sea. Strobe lights stabbed at the sky while searchlights crisscrossed the boat, guiding the helicopter through the fog.
Four boys in black jackets scurried across the Lollipop’s deck to the stern. With wand flashlights they directed the Sikorsky down to the landing pad. The side door popped open, and a block of steel steps unfolded to the platform.
A man scrambled out and ducked underneath the spinning blades.
Charles Magnus, head of Good Company Security, tossed a large parka to another man still in the helicopter. Magnus trotted forward to the bow to greet Ms. Günerro while the other man suited up. In the fifteen seconds it took to get to his boss, Magnus’s breath had already started to freeze his thick beard.
Ms. Günerro spoke over the sound of the howling wind and ocean spray. “How was
your trip to Tierra del Fuego?”
“Not much fuego,” said Magnus, raising his voice. “It’s freezing. If you haven’t noticed.”
Her eyes cut a quick but serious glance. “What did you find?”
Magnus zipped his coat all the way up to his throat. “I’ve reconfirmed the boy’s identity,” he said. “His full name is Lucas Kapriss Benes.”
“How did you find that out?”
“Like you always say,” Magnus said, “nuns are weak. They will always tell the truth.”
“Nuns have to tell the truth,” said Ms. Günerro, cackling. “Did you get the boy’s birth chart?”
“That was a problem.”
“What do you mean?”
“His birth chart is missing.”
Ms. Günerro was silent. Magnus looked back and saw the other man climbing out of the helicopter. Then he turned back to his boss and dropped his eyes.
“The whole file has been missing since the morning of the ferryboat accident.”
“I knew it,” said Ms. Günerro. “That means Kate Benes stole it, and that means the bank account information must be in Lucas’s birth chart. It’s the only reason she would have taken it.”
“Now what?”
“The next question is,” said Ms. Günerro, “did the birth chart in fact go with Lucas in that ice chest?”
“If it did “—Magnus paused—“then Lucas Benes is a millionaire.”
Ms. Günerro shook her head. “Don’t be a fool, Chuckie. That was twelve years ago, and the international markets have been wild ever since. And remember, Bunguu paid us, prepaid us, in stocks, bonds, diamonds, gold, even ivory, and cash currencies from nearly every country.” She paused. “If Lucas Benes has access to those accounts, he would be not a millionaire, but a billionaire.”
“But he must not know it,” said Magnus.
Ms. Günerro said, “Frankly, I don’t think anyone at the New Resistance knows the truth.”
On the roof of the ship’s pilothouse, satellite dishes were spinning northward. A foursome of mustached boys in black jackets policed the boat’s perimeter with giant ice picks.
A deckhand closed the helicopter’s door.
Ms. Günerro’s eyes sharpened on the man walking from the helicopter. “Does Bunguu know about what happened in Paris?”
“Yes, he knows,” said Magnus.
Siba Günerro and Charles Magnus stared at each other with the same worried look. For them, this was a business trip. It was supposed to be the most profitable venture ever for the Good Company.
Supposed to be.
The Good Ship Lollipop was large enough to accommodate one hundred forty-eight passengers. The crew often liked to double-bunk kids like slaves and pack them in. But on this day the ship’s cargo, some thirty-three children, was a fraction of its capacity because Lucas Benes and the New Resistance had foiled a Good Company kidnapping in Paris. And in doing so, they had cost Siba Günerro a fortune. Literally.
“Ah,” said Ms. Günerro, grinning brightly. ”Mister Bunguu.”
Lu Bunguu walked hunched over as gusts of frigid wind slapped him in the face. Specks of white ice dotted his dark pores. The African-Asian man with long fingers yanked the hood of his parka around his face. He snarled at Ms. Günerro, showing his piano-key teeth.
Ms. Günerro extended her hand. “Welcome to paradise.”
“Antarctica is not parad-ice, madam,” said Bunguu. “It’s just plain ice.”
“It’s absolutely wunderbar,” said Ms. Günerro. “Absolutely wonderful.”
Bunguu nodded impatiently. “The pilot said we must go soon. Nothing flies well in the Antarctic winter.”
“It’s a helicopter,” said Ms. Günerro. “You’ll be fine.”
“At these temperatures,” said Bunguu, his voice deep but respectful, “everything is disagreeable.”
“The lack of ozone,” said Ms. Günerro, “makes everything perfectly clear.”
“I don’t know about this ozone,” said Bunguu. “I do know that it is a miserably cold place to have a meeting.”
“It’s heaven on earth,” said Ms. Günerro, extending her arms.
“Heaven?” Bunguu said with a look of shock on his face. “Antarctica?”
“Yes. If Hades is hot,” Ms. Günerro said, “then heaven must be cold!”
Lu Bunguu stomped his foot on the deck. “Madam, we don’t have time for such chatter!” He shivered. “I know you botched the kidnappings in Paris.”
“It’s just a glitch,” said Ms. Günerro. “You know who and his group got in the way.”
“John Beans?” said Bunguu.
Magnus corrected him. “It’s Benes,” he said. “It rhymes with tennis.”
“Anywho,” said Ms. Günerro. “Yes, Benes is making a fortune now from his chain of Globe Hotels and is pouring every cent into helping children, which is stopping us from doing our Good work.”
Lu Bunguu shook his head. “The fact remains, madam, that I have already paid you for a product that you now seem unable to supply.”
“We’ve consistently delivered children to you for years, Lu. Once I take care of the Benes problem, it’ll be smooth sailing again.”
“I don’t think you understand,” Bunguu said. “The problem is that for years we had a perfect supply of children for all kinds of work. But for the past twelve months you’ve delivered no one. We have open orders for hundreds of child soldiers in the Congo, in Ituri, Darfur, still in Rwanda, and Burundi, too.”
“I’m aware of your labor shortage,” Ms. Günerro said. “Children who work as soldiers quite often die and must be replaced.”
Mr. Bunguu eyed Ms. Günerro. “There is another matter.”
“What?” asked Magnus.
“Word on the street,” Bunguu said, “is that the Good Company has lost access to those secret funds that I paid you twelve years ago.”
“Nonsense!” said Ms. Günerro with a weak chuckle. “My Good Hotels are making us millions every night of the year. I have kept the diamonds and gold you paid us a secret because it is a secret. If the bankers in North America and Europe find out that I have hidden bank accounts, they will stick their noses in everything we do.”
“You have meetings in Antarctica in winter,” said Bunguu. “Neither of you knows anything!”
Ms. Günerro huffed. “Mr. Bunguu—”
“I knew twelve years ago you’d lost that money,” Bunguu said, gritting his teeth. “I’ve been trying to find it ever since. But I just learned that there is a banker in the Falklands who’s been asking about the container of money.
“So yes,” said Bunguu. “You’re a liar and you owe me and you will repay me. Is that clear?”
“Come now, Lu,” Ms. Günerro said. “We’re old friends.”
“Old as in finished,” said Bunguu. “I will give you two choices. Within the next year, you will either return my money or its equivalent, or deliver five hundred children to me for each of the next twelve months.”
“Are you serious?” said Ms. Günerro.
Bunguu nodded and pulled his coat tight around his chest.
“And if we don’t?” Magnus asked.
Bunguu turned toward the helicopter. “Then the governments in America and Europe will find out about your hidden accounts, the child trafficking, and your other good activities. And those governments will freeze the money from all your Good Hotels.
“And, madam,” he continued, “don’t think for a moment that they will ever discover a relationship between you and me.”
Lu Bunguu marched headlong to the helicopter. He climbed in and slammed the door closed behind him. From the window Bunguu glared at Ms. Günerro and Magnus. The Sikorsky’s engine whirred as the helicopter lifted off the landing pad. The pilot turned north toward Cape Horn, gliding out over the water.
Ms. Günerro watched Bunguu fly away. Then she grinned and let out a cackle that seemed to spread out across the bottom of the planet.
“Magnus!” she snapped.
/> “Yes.”
“I want you to fly to Buenos Aires,” Ms. Günerro said.
“Why?”
“Because we need a mother from Argentina.”
“But his mother is—”
“I know what happened,” Ms. Günerro said. “But Lucas doesn’t, and he will always look for her.” She paused. “Get the mother and the boy will follow her. Follow the boy and we’ll get the money.”
MONEY CAN BUY THE BEST FRIENDS
At the Good Hotel Buenos Aires, Argentina, a New Resistance waiter attached a GoPro to his tray and started filming.
Charles Magnus marched through the front doors of the hotel and stopped beneath the glass chandelier in the middle of the lobby, where he met a dark-haired woman dressed in a blue police uniform. Her name was Charlotte Janssens, and she was an agent with Interpol, the International Criminal Police Organization, which assisted with police cooperation across the globe.
They shook hands and walked to the lobby cafe, where they sat at a table and ordered two coffees from the waiter.
The Interpol agent spoke English with a clean, international accent.
“Good morning,” she said.
“Hello, Charlotte,” Magnus said. “How was your trip from France?”
“Long. How was your trip from Tierra del Fuego?”
“Cold,” Magnus said. He glanced around the lobby to make sure no one was spying on them. “Do you have the information we’re looking for?”
From her jacket pocket Agent Janssens removed a small box with the word EVIDENCE written on the outside. She slid it across the table.
Magnus palmed the box and looked back toward the front doors. Guests dressed for a cold day were streaming in and out of the hotel. Magnus turned back and took the top off the box. Inside he found a large diamond. He picked it up and rolled it between his fingers.
“Where did you find this?”
“This particular diamond was found on a dock just outside of Rome.”
“Italy?”
“The one and only.”
“How do you know this is one of the diamonds we’re looking for?”
“First of all,” Agent Janssens said, “I am the Interpol special agent in charge of diamond theft worldwide. I know diamonds. Secondly, this is the fifth such gem we’ve found in the last two months. Two mysteriously showed up on the shipping docks in Australia and Indonesia. More were spotted in Dubai and Turkey. Then, earlier this week, this one was found in Civitavecchia northwest of Rome. And lastly, I have not seen a diamond cut like this since the Kapriss diamonds.”
